


known

by katierosefun



Series: Obitine Week 2020 [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: (and at the same time i regret everything), Angst and Feels, F/M, Heavy Angst, Love Confessions, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, ObiTine Week 2020, Satine Kryze Lives, Satine Kryze Needs a Hug, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierosefun/pseuds/katierosefun
Summary: The events of Lawless, only Satine lives. But at a cost.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Series: Obitine Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798525
Comments: 16
Kudos: 140





	known

Satine’s knees had long gone numb since the Death Watch had dragged her into the throne room, but she didn’t particularly care, not as she stared up at that wretch who sat on her throne. At Obi-Wan kneeling a little ways from it, his face shadowed and interrupted by bruises and small cuts. Satine had just barely repressed her own cry when some of the Death Watch members had thrown Obi-Wan as though he were a sack of bones.

But Obi-Wan had lifted his head to Satine, and though pain had glazed his eyes, they remained steady. _Don’t_ , he seemed to say, and Satine had wanted nothing more than to tear out of the grip of the men who gripped her shoulders and _run_ to Obi-Wan, drag them both out of the palace as they had come so close to doing just a few minutes ago.

Now, Maul pushed himself off the throne and settled down in front of Obi-Wan, an ugly leer stretched across his face. “A bold attempt,” he drawled, lifting Obi-Wan’s chin with a gloved hand. “But did you truly think you would get the Duchess and yourself out of this palace without my knowing?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, and Satine didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not how even in pain, his voice still remained light. “I was able to get into this palace without your knowing, wasn’t I?”

Satine sucked in a breath, waiting for that monster to do something, but Maul only smiled. It was the worst thing that Satine had ever seen: a chill, gradual smile that would have sent the average person tumbling back, but Obi-Wan remained steady, his expression solid as Maul stood back up.

“I could kill you right now,” Maul said, growing to his full height. He circled around Obi-Wan, those yellow eyes of his trained on him. “Or,” he said, and in a flash, Satine felt something cold wrap around her throat, and then she was being lifted in the air—and suddenly she couldn’t _breathe_. She clawed her hands up for her throat, trying to find some way to unblock the passage of air, her mouth opening and closing, desperately trying to suck in whatever breath she could find—

“Or,” Maul said, his voice a low chill, “I could kill her first.”

There was movement out of the corner of Satine’s eye, and when she managed to look down, she found Obi-Wan on his feet, rage flickering across his face. “It’s me you want,” he said, his voice low, even. “Let her be.”

Satine felt that grip on her throat tighten, and for a brief moment, she wondered if this was really how she was going to meet her own end—if she really was going to die right here. She met those thoughts with some quiet reluctance, but at the same time, looking down at Obi-Wan’s stormy eyes, she was met with a small stab of sadness. She would have liked to see him away from this place first.

But then the hold on her throat loosened, and Satine crashed to the ground, pain splintering up her limbs as she collided on the cold floor.

She gasped for breath, coughing, wheezing as air filled her lungs once more. She heard rapid footsteps, a few shouts, and then Maul’s quiet, “No—let him.”

And then Satine felt hands on her face, brushing back her hair, flitting past her chin, her cheeks. She managed to lift her head and found Obi-Wan, his eyes wide and pained, and then relieved—a tentative, choked kind of relief—as she said, “I’m alright.”

She wanted to reach up to his face, rest a hand against his cheek and drag him close, rest her forehead against his and shield themselves from the horror of the throne room then—she wanted nothing more than to hide themselves and wait until all of this had come to pass, but she heard the march of footsteps getting closer, and then Obi-Wan was suddenly ripped away from her, leaving nothing but cold and empty air.

Satine watched helplessly as Maul tossed Obi-Wan to the ground, the sound of a body meeting marble filling the throne room with a sickeningly loud thud and crack. A soft groan left Obi-Wan’s lips, but he rolled over to his side, staggered up to his feet as Maul circled him.

“Consider yourself lucky for that brief reprieve, Master Jedi,” Maul crooned. “Because I promise you…” Flashes of red light, and then Maul was twirling his lightsaber around his hands with that ugly sneer of his. “There will be no more.”

Obi-Wan only smiled grimly. “Good thing I don’t believe in luck, then,” he said.

That was all it took.

And then Maul lunged for Obi-Wan, his lightsaber flashing, unyielding, unforgiving. Obi-Wan dodged out of the way, and then he extended a hand—there was a soft _click_ , and then the lightsaber hanging at Maul’s side came free.

Satine watched as Obi-Wan just barely activated his lightsaber in time to meet Maul’s. Their blades met in a clash of red and blue light, and then a blinding white as they pressed against each other—Maul’s face glowing with rage, Obi-Wan’s glowing with a cold determination.

Satine looked around the throne room, at the Death Watch still stationed around the throne room. Her mind raced for some idea of how to disrupt the duel—if she could at least leash one of the blasters at one of the members’ sides, then she could—

The thought of letting loose any violence still chilled Satine to her very core, but the noisy clashes of lightsaber against lightsaber, the hatred radiating off Maul—

Satine knew that this Maul wasn’t going to end the duel until he won.

Satine snuck a glance at the weapon dangling from the Death Watch member standing closest to her. She could make a quick lunge for it, and then—what? She could kick out his legs, hopefully give him enough of a surprise and enough disorientation for herself to get a handle on the situation.

But before Satine could think of any other way to execute her little plan, there was a sudden jab at her shoulders.

“Eyes front,” the Death Watch member behind her barked.

Satine swung her gaze back around, her core tightening as she felt the nudge of a blaster at the back of her skull. She didn’t need to hear any more warnings to know what any more movement from herself might mean. A part of her raged and raged, looked blindly for some other way out, but that blaster at the back of her head kept her eyes trained on the fight still going on in front of her.

Obi-Wan met Maul blow for blow, his face tightening with each impact of their weapons clashing against each other. Maul growled something that Satine couldn’t make out, but she knew it was bad enough that Obi-Wan’s entire body seemed to clench, and then, in a burst of sheer power, Obi-Wan had shoved Maul back with a twist of his saber and a wave of his hand.

The wall Maul hit grumbled on impact, but then Maul rolled up to his feet, breathing hard and absolute murder in his eyes.

“You’re getting angry, Kenobi,” Maul crowed, twisting his saber in his hands. “You can feel it too, can’t you?”

“And you must be getting nervous,” Obi-Wan replied, breathing equally as hard. “If you’re suddenly talkative.”

There was pure hatred in Maul’s eyes as he lunged for Obi-Wan again, his lightsaber nothing more than an angry blur of red before it collided against Obi-Wan’s blue. Despite the danger, Satine felt herself leaning forward, her lips moving in silent prayer as Obi-Wan skidded back at Maul’s sudden push against him.

 _Please_ , Satine thought. She didn’t believe in miracles, nor did she believe in luck—but _please_ , just this once— _just this once_ , let them be able to get out of this mess in one piece. She caught Obi-Wan’s eye, saw the sudden renewal of strength in his face before he blocked another one of Maul’s strikes.

 _Please_ , Satine thought again. _Please, just this once._

Obi-Wan struck at Maul, drove their lightsabers down to the ground, left behind a smoking mark of molten stone before their sabers were back up in the air, bracing against each other. There was one second, two seconds, before Obi-Wan’s foot suddenly shot out, kicked against Maul’s abdomen.

Maul staggered backward with a grunt, and then, regaining his balance, he dove at Obi-Wan once again—only this time, one hand was free, and before she could stop herself, a shout left Satine’s lips as Maul slammed Obi-Wan against the wall. Obi-Wan struggled under the invisible grip, his legs kicking as Maul held him there—pinned, helpless—

Satine didn’t care if there was a blaster to her head. She ducked forward, slipped off her boot—

And it would have been funny if she hadn’t been so _terrified_ —

But she threw her boot against Maul’s head.

That was enough to break Maul’s concentration, and Satine only just let out a breath of relief as Obi-Wan slid back to the ground—before Maul was suddenly swinging his gaze to her, his wrathful gaze unfaltering as he pulled his lips back into a snarl.

“Perhaps,” he hissed, striding towards her in two powerful steps, “it was a mistake to leave you alive.”

Satine couldn’t even cry out as Maul lifted his saber over his head, aimed right for her chest, and then—

Obi-Wan was suddenly at her side again, his saber close enough that Satine could feel its heat as he pushed away Maul’s blow. Obi-Wan’s face was an unbreakable mask, his eyes lit by the glow of his saber as he said in a dangerously low voice, “I thought we agreed that it was only me you wanted.”

“Ever the negotiator,” Maul snarled, pressing close. “But not quite.”

And then Maul was twisting the lightsaber away from Obi-Wan, too quickly, too quickly—and then Obi-Wan’s lightsaber was twisted out of his grip. Maul let out a growl, his lightsaber aimed for Obi-Wan’s chest, but at the last second, he dove out of the way. Rolled over to his fallen lightsaber, held it up over his head as Maul came crashing down on him.

Satine watched as Obi-Wan staggered under the crushing weight, propping himself up only by his knees as Maul leaned closer, closer.

Satine’s chest tightened. He was stuck in a too vulnerable position, that much she knew. He couldn’t get out, not like that—

And then Obi-Wan flicked his eyes to Satine.

And then, as though in slow motion, Obi-Wan smiled. A gentle, sad smile that Satine only had a moment to process before Obi-Wan dropped his saber from Maul’s and drove it right into Maul’s abdomen—just as Maul’s saber drove into Obi-Wan’s chest.

\--

Satine didn’t recognize the strangled, stuttered cry that left her lips as Obi-Wan dropped back to the ground, the strength already leeching from his body, his face as his lightsaber rolled out of his grip. She was dully aware of Maul falling backwards, his eyes already unseeing as his own lightsaber dropped from his hands. Later, she would realize that the Death Watch had scattered in a panic, leaving Maul’s body behind—

But right now, in this moment, Satine could only scramble for Obi-Wan, her hands shaking as she tugged him into her lap.

His eyes were still open, still fluttering as Satine brushed his hair out of his face, tried to even the trembling in her own voice as she whispered words that didn’t make sense to her own ears—just a rapid breaths that sounded vaguely like Obi-Wan’s name, like a heart breaking.

“Satine,” Obi-Wan breathed, and Satine managed to stop, just for that moment—for that one, brief moment—as she found Obi-Wan’s hand tangling into hers, their fingers helplessly twining around each other. His eyes—so stormy just a few minutes ago, were now clearer than Satine had ever seen them. Bright, shining like the sky that they had walked under years ago.

“I’m here,” Satine managed to say.

Obi-Wan smiled slowly. “I know,” he whispered. His voice was weak, soft. He brought their hands to his lips, the briefest brush of his mouth against her hand.

“I love you,” Satine said, her voice cracking. _So please don’t go._

Obi-Wan seemed to hear her thoughts, because his smile turned sad. “I wish I…” he murmured, his eyes drifting up towards Satine’s face. His breaths were coming more rapidly now, but his eyes remained on Satine, his hand still entwined in hers. And then, his breath hitching, he breathed, “I wish I told you sooner.”

Satine’s throat closed. Something wet slid down her cheeks. Tears, she realized dully.

“Do you know?” Obi-Wan whispered, his face flashing with pain. “Do you—”

“Yes,” Satine whispered. She lowered her lips down to Obi-Wan’s forehead, closed her eyes as the rest of the tears slipped away, down her cheeks and into his hair. “I’ve always known.”

There was a sigh.

And when Satine pulled away, she found that Obi-Wan’s eyes were still trained on her—but not on her.

Satine closed his eyes.

And she wept.

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the second prompt of Obitine Week: 'role reversal'. I thought of a lot of different scenarios, but this was the one that stuck in my mind the most.
> 
> As always, comments/kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
